


Making it Stop

by katemiller



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katemiller/pseuds/katemiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock finds himself unable to stop the whirlwind of his mind. He doesn't know why, but Molly always manages to help.  She is more than willing, but what will it cost the two?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Her Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the promt: Sherlock finds himself unable to stop the whirlwind of his mind and tries to go walk it off and find some way of making sense of things. Unintentionally (though perhaps subconsciously) he ends up at Molly's flat. He doesn't know why, but Molly always manages to help.  
> This was sent in by an anon and I would just like to say, thank you dear for sending in the prompt. The original prompt fill is posted in the Compilation of Prompts under the chapter title 'You Make it Quiet".

His mind had always been a nonstop machine. There were…things that helped calm his thoughts, but after his small stay as Shezza he promised to never touch them again.

It had been okay after his return to London. People were glad to have him back and there were loads of cases. After the news of his return had dissipated, there was John and Mary’s wedding. That had kept his mind satisfied while the planning lasted.

Soon he was on to his next case which had meant committing to his undercover role much more than normal. There were months of planning and scheming all focused around keeping Mary and John safe. But that had been weeks ago. The cases now were mundane and nothing kept his mind satisfied.

It was now well past midnight and the streets of London were quiet. Sherlock wandered without direction and was surprised to look up and see Molly’s flat. He found it even more surprising that her bedroom light was still on.

He walked up the steps to Molly’s flat and knocked. It would have been a lie to say he didn’t think twice about what he was doing, in fact his mind played out several scenarios as he stood there listening to the soft shuffles on the other side of the door. He winced as two awkward scenarios went through his head. He blinked them away as Molly opened the door.

“Sherlock?” She pushed her glasses up on her nose, pulling the blanket around her shoulders tighter. “Are you okay?”

He stared down at her, trying to fight through the emotions that where trying to flood his brain.

“Come in.” She pulled him inside by his elbow. “Take your shoes off – they are covered in mud.”

He did so as she went to make them some tea. He hung his coat up and sat in the middle of the couch. He debated his choice of seat for a moment. He knew Molly had been sitting, more snuggled into, the corner of the couch. It was her favorite spot and had the best lightening for reading. He really could have sat in one of the chairs or at the other end of the couch, giving her room, but he pushed the thought out of his head and concentrated hard on the sounds of Molly in the kitchen.

“Here.” She walked back in and handed him a cup. She didn’t think twice before curling back up into the corner of the couch, her knees touching his. He stared down at their knees while she sipped on her tea quietly for a few minutes. “Sherlock?” He looked up meeting her questioning eyes. “Are you okay?”

“It never really stops.” She nodded, understanding what he meant. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” She patted his hand. He reached out with his other hand and held her hand between the two of his.

“It stops when I’m here.” He whispered.

“What…what kind of things?” He shook his at her words and Molly frowned down at their hands. 

“Are you ever going to let me in?” Sherlock looked at her, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. He raised his top hand to her chin and lifted her gaze up to his.

“Molly.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his, stopping his words and to his relief the whirlwind that kept blowing in his mind. But it was over all too quickly when she sat back taking her hand with her and wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Maybe you should go.” She whispered as she pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Sherlock moved to stand up, but stilled and then settled back into the couch. She brought her eyes back up to his as he reached over and took her hand back in his.

“May I stay?” Molly nodded numbly at his question.

Sherlock kept Molly’s hand in his as he folded his legs under himself and turned to face her. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. She slowly lowered her knees down against his and watched him as he studied her face.

He raised his top hand to her face, cupping her cheek as he ran his thumb along her bottom lip and then her top lip. He gave her a small smile as he felt her breath on his thumb. He titled his head thinking about how his head had stilled in the brief moment Molly’s lips had been on his. He leaned in closer and gently pulled her face to his.

She returned the pressure on his lips and even risked lacing her fingers with his in the hand that still held hers. He tightened his grip on her hand and sucked her bottom lip in between his teeth. He froze as she moaned against his lips and reached her other hand up into his curls.

Sherlock let go of her and sat up. Molly’s hand still hung in the air as she stared at him, her mouth gaping opening, lips red, and pupils blown. She finally dropped her hand into her lap and sat back against the arm of the couch.

He stared back at her, his hair ruffled, and pupils blown just a far as Molly’s. 

“I have to go.” He stood up quickly, throwing his coat on, and grabbing his shoes before closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

 

His mind was still humming when he got back to Baker Street, yet he didn’t seem to mind it so much now. It wasn’t the normal everyday clutter and thoughts he was going through. As he threw himself on his bed, he began to catalog the evening’s events. 

It hadn’t been his idea to kiss her. He knew that. She knew that. They both knew it was her idea. But after she had planted that idea in his head he had had to know. He needed to know what it would feel like for his mind to be completely blank for more than just mere seconds. He needed to know more about the way her lips fit against his. He simply needed to know.

That was what he was chalking it up to. His _need_ to know – curiosity. That was all it had been. That and the want for silence. Curiosity and peace. That was all it was.

Yet, he couldn’t figure out why his hands felt slightly empty now, as if they were carving her hand and face. No. It had been curiosity. It had been for… _scientific_ reasons. An experiment, if you will. That was it. The data was in and the exploring was done. Yes, it was nice to have a quiet mind.

* * *

Sherlock woke the next morning to a phone call from Lestrade. There was a double homicide with zero leads.

“Do you think you could take a look?”

“I’ll be there in forty minutes.” Sherlock barely let Lestrade finish before confirming. He texted John to meet him at the scene and then he took a shower, completely forgetting the incident from the night before.

* * *

“It’s not a double homicide.” Sherlock called as he squatted near the bodies.

“What do you mean it’s not a double homicide?!” Lestrade almost chuckled. “There are _two_ dead bodies!” He clapped Sherlock on the shoulder.

“This one killed this one.” Sherlock pointed to the bodies. “There was a struggle.” He said as he stood up. “But not much – the first murderer was killed by someone very close to him.”

“Perfect!” Lestrade groaned. “We are going to have these bodies taken to Bart’s. If anything strange pops up in the reports I will have Molly text you.” Sherlock nodded and set about to make his way through the list of close family and friends of the victims.

* * *

“Why has she not responded!?” Sherlock groaned as he traced a path in 221B’s living room. “I need to know if they have these tattoos or not!” He plopped down in his chair and picked up a photo of the tattoos in question.

“Calm down.” John shook his head from his chair where he was sitting reading the newspaper. “She is probably busy with the autopsies.”

“Right!” Sherlock jumped up and grabbed his coat.

“Where are you going?” John turned to stare at him over his shoulder.

“Bart’s.” He stuffed the picture into his coat pocket and started down the stairs. “Come on John!” He called back.

* * *

“I am just about…oh!” Molly looked up and stopped in surprise as Sherlock and John entered the morgue. “I thought you were Lestrade.” Sherlock tried not to notice the red that was rising on her cheeks – a very agreeable color for her.

“No, because this man here couldn’t wait for you to text him back.” John glared at Sherlock, who didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s fine!” Molly practically shouted at the pair. She cleared her throat and gave them a small smile. “I just finished with that body. There was nothing special about it.” She moved around to the opposite side of the table and lifted the right arm of the corpse she was working on. “But this body – ”

“Has a tattoo.” Sherlock gave John a self-satisfied smirk.

“Yes.” Molly blinked at him a few times. “I don’t know why I am ever shocked.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but snapped it closed and smiled at Molly.

“I am guessing that you have seen it before?” She gestured to the tattoo that was tattooed on the side of the man’s ribs.

“Yes.” Sherlock pulled the picture out and handed it to Molly. He pulled on a glove and examined the man’s tattoo as Molly looked over the picture.

“What is it?” John asked.

“Not sure yet.” Sherlock mumbled as he pulled on the skin around the tattoo. He stood up and pulled the glove off. “I have seen this symbol several times in the past few months, but I have no leads as to where it comes from.” He frowned and turned to throw away the glove, slamming into Molly.

Molly let out a small squeak from the impact and Sherlock had to grab her shoulders to stop her from being body slammed across the room.

He stared down at the small woman in his arms noticing how little of the brown could be seen in her eyes any more. He had the strong urge to press his lips to hers again. Had John not been there, he would have. Instead he set her up on her feet properly.

“Molly.” He gave her a tight smile and disappeared out of the morgue, his coat tails flapping behind him, with John trying to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the beginning. I am trying to write with a different tone (some what different style, mostly tone) and I hope that is coming across. I also hope that it becomes strong in the next chapters. Anyways, let me know what you think.


	2. His Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter out...plus it is on the shorter side. Anyways. I hope you enjoy.

“What was that?” John asked as they rode back to Baker Street.

“Our case just became very interesting.”

“No. Not with the case.” Sherlock turned, giving John a questioning look. “With Molly.”

“Molly?” He wrinkled his nose. John just shrugged and turned to look out the window. Sherlock stared at the back of his head. He hadn’t said a word. John had been across the room – it would have been simply impossible for John to have seen her (their) dilated pupils. “What do you mean, with Molly?” John just shrugged again. “What do you mean _with Molly_?!”

John turned to him, frowning.

“That thing between Molly and you.”

“There was no _thing_ between us.” Sherlock answered shortly. John smirked at him and turned to look back out the window, muttering softly,

“I must not observe as well as you.”

* * *

 

John had gone home hours ago and every lead Sherlock had found that night had run dry. He needed access to Mycroft’s computers but there was no way his brother would let him set foot inside his house at this time of night. It was just past ten and his mind was still in over drive.

He sat plucking on his violin stings, thinking. He wasn’t sure when images of Molly started popping up in his mind and was even more surprised when he realized he had been sorting the memories in a qualitative manor. He pushed her face to the back of his mind and tried focusing on other things.

The swirling black hole that appeared in the absence of her face had been what caused Sherlock to go for a walk the night before and was threating to push him over the edge. He grabbed his mobile and sent a text to Molly.

_Are you up? – Sherlock_

_Yes. Why? – Molly_

_I’m coming over. – Sherlock_

He didn’t wait for a reply as he grabbed his coat and headed down the stairs and out the door. He hailed a cab and told the cabbie Molly’s address as if it was his own.

_Okay. – Molly_

_Is there something wrong? – Molly_

_Sherlock?? – Molly_

He ignored her last texts and turned the mobile over and over in his hands as he waited impatiently. When the cab stopped he threw the fair at the driver and ran up the stairs to Molly’s flat. He knocked once and the door was opened.

“Molly.” He said as he brushed past her and into the living room. He draped his coat over the edge of the chair and left his shoes by the door. He turned to Molly who was staring at him, trying to gage him.

“I made tea.” She said looking down. She moved around him and sat on the couch, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. He noticed the tea things on the table and nodded at her. He poured them each a cup and handed Molly hers.

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes as she sipped on it. “It’s perfect.” No one had ever been able to make her tea perfectly, until now.

“Yes.” He said as he sat across from her in one of the chairs. They drank their tea in silence until they each had finished their cups.

Sherlock couldn’t take his eyes off of Molly nor did he truly care to. He watched as she fidgeted under his stare and enjoyed when she nibbled on her bottom lip unconsciously. He observed her until she sat down her cup and looked him square in the eye.

“Sherlock, are you okay?”

“Yes.” He squinted at her, not quite understanding.

“Not that I mind…but why are you here?” He nodded at her words again and set his empty cup down.

“I need a distraction.” He folded his hands in his lap.

“You needed it to stop.” She said as if correcting him. He blinked at her, unable to correct her. “Why…why did you kiss me?”

“Why did you kiss me?” He retorted. She smiled down at her hands, him having bested her. “It was your idea.”

“I suppose it was.” Her smiled broadened. He found himself smiling back at her before clearing his throat. She looked up at him with an expectant stare.

“I would like to ask something of you.” Sherlock shuffled his feet on the ground.

“Okay.”

He dropped his gaze from hers and frowned, focusing his eyes on her lips.

“It never stops.” She nodded, them already having this conversation. “I need it to stop.” He turned away from her as he spoke. “You make it stop.”

Sherlock watched from his peripheral as she stood up from her spot and walked over to him. He turned to watch her properly as she made a spot on the coffee table for herself and sat down in front of him.

“You already how I feel about helping you and ” Molly’s words were cut off as Sherlock pressed his lips to hers.

He inhaled through his nose at the relief that came to his mind. He sat back and sighed.

She reached up and pushed a curl out of his face, a small smile on her face.

“So what is this then?” She said giving her shoulders a little shrug.

Sherlock didn’t want to label it. He wasn’t sure what it was. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling. All of that would mean going back into his own mind and he needed a break from the whirlwind.

Instead of answering, he took her hands in his and rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs. He leaned forward and captured her lips with his again, this time deepening the kiss when she moaned in response to his touch.

He let go of her hands and cradled her face, needing to secure her to him. She slowly threaded her fingers into his hair, sending a tingling sensation down his spine.

Molly pulled her lips away from his and rested her forehead against his, their hot breath mixing on each other’s faces.

“Sherlock, what is this?” She asked again.

“I need….quiet.” He slowly met her gaze, her brown eyes so close that he felt she could see his soul. “You give me that.”

“What are you asking me then?” She dropped her hands back to her lap, and leaned away from him.

He hadn’t thought about it long, just the cab ride over. He had imagined the many responses that she would give, all leading to him crawling back into the black abyss

“Molly.” He locked eyes with her as she studied his face. He knew she could tell what he wanted, needed. He knew what it meant for her in the end and so did she. He knew what it was he was asking for, again, and how unfair he was being.  

She sat up straight and tossed her hair off her shoulder. He watched as the look in her eyes changed and he knew what she was going to say, that moment three years ago etched into his mind.

“What do you need?”

“You.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know....things are moving fast and its only chapter two! Let me know what you think! There is much more in store for these two!


	3. John's Suspicions

“Then you have me.” She whispered as she reached over to squeeze his hand.

He studied her dilated eyes and knew his reflected hers. He dared to not think on it too long, afraid of the repercussions; instead he pulled her off the table and into his lap. He half expected her to let out a squeak, but she stayed silent and held his gaze.

“Are there rules that – ” Sherlock held his finger against Molly’s lips. She smirked at him and took hold of his hand, pulling it away from her face. “Is this another thing that is going to happen? You cutting me off in the middle of – ” He kissed her again and she started giggling, breaking their faces apart.

“Probably.” He said as he rested his chin on her shoulder, inhaling her sent.

“Good to know.” She gave him a small kiss on his nose. “But, in all seriousness…Sherlock, are there rules?” He shifted under her weight, not liking the question.

“I don’t know.”

“I thought you didn’t like not knowing.” She gave him a half smile, as he frowned at her.

“It’s the best I can come up with for now.” He admitted. She nodded, understanding. He watched her, wondering what she was thinking.

“Okay.” She finally responded. He poked her check with his nose, making her giggle.

“May I go back to kissing you now?” He whispered in her ear.

* * *

 

“Ahh!” Sherlock growled as he snapped Mycroft’s computer closed.

“Do be more careful Sherlock.” Mycroft reprimanded him and went back to his tea and paperwork.

“Didn’t find anything helpful?” John asked cautiously. Sherlock glared at him and stood from his chair, buttoning his jacket. “Obviously not.” John muttered as he stood.

“Going without a thank you?” Mycroft raised a brow as Sherlock neared his office door.

“Thanks.” He said dryly in response and disappeared out the door, barely making out John’s appropriate thank you.

“Oh, do walk faster!” John shouted as he ran to catch up with Sherlock who huffed and slowed a bit.

“The problem, John, is that I know that symbol is important.”

“And?” John asked as Sherlock hailed a cab.

“I need to go to Bart’s.” He flung the door open.

“Alright.” John stepped up to the cab and found the door slamming closed in his face.

“Alone…I’ll text you if I get a lead.”

* * *

The hallway to the morgue was rather quiet for midafternoon, but Sherlock reveled in it as he flung the doors to the morgue open. The silver room was empty but soft music was drifting from Molly’s office. He smirked and turned on his heal heading to the small room.

“Sherlock.” Molly smiled as she looked up.

“Molly.” He nodded in return as he closed the door behind him, locking it.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t like the arrangement.” He shook his head a little in confusion. “It’s been two days since we…talked.” He moved in between her and the desk, sitting on her paper work, legs on either side of her knees.

“Thirty-Eight hours is not two days.” He mumbled against her mouth. He held nothing back as he enjoyed the feeling of her teeth on his lips.

He broke away, surprising her. Her eyes were dark and lips swollen; he relished in the wild look on her face.

He stood and switched their places so Molly was sitting on the desk, her knees hugging his hips.

He tugged on her hair till most of it was falling out of her pony tail and shivered as she raked her fingers through his curls.

By the time he had good and thoroughly snogged the breath out of Molly, they both looked like crazed teenagers. He kissed her softly one last time and stepped back, brushing her hair behind her shoulder.

“Should probably redo that.” He said clearing his throat. Molly nodded as she stood up and pulled down her skirt that had been hiked up halfway past her knees. She shook her head at Sherlock who shrugged at his own appearance.

“I can’t let you out of this office looking like that.” She brushed his curls back into place, and readjusted his shirt. “You know, I think that you – ” Sherlock took her face in his hands again and placed a hesitant kiss on her lips. He let her face go and went to the door. He turned back to her and smiled warmly.

“Thank you Molly.”

* * *

“What did you need at Bart’s?” John asked as Sherlock practically skipped into 221b. He stared at the man now realizing that the look on his face was nothing more than what most people would call contentment. Sherlock was never content on a good day and ever further from it on a bad day. And according to his action’s earlier in the day, this was a bad day.

“Molly’s assistance.” He said with almost a shrug. He slipped out of his coat and hung it next to the door. John was almost expecting Sherlock to start whistling as he went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

“Are…” John coughed a bit on a chuckle, regaining his composure. “Are you smiling?” Sherlock stilled for a moment before turning on the kettle.

“How is Mary?” He asked as he set down two cups.

“Miserable.” John frowned as Sherlock changed the subject. “Ready to have her own body back.” Sherlock didn’t reply as he tinkered with the tea things. “Sherlock, you didn’t answer me.”

“I hardly do.”

* * *

_Are you going to be up? – Sherlock_

_Do you want me to be? – Mol_

_Yes. – Sherlock_

“What are you smiling about?” Mary asked, exasperated. John had told her in whispered gossip about Sherlock’s utterly pleasant mood the day before and that he was sure a certain, tiny pathologist had something to do with it.

“When are you do?” He dropped the mobile in his lap and stared at her.

“Sherlock, do not change the subject on me – besides, you know when!” She huffed and rubbed her giant belly in effect. “As I was saying, what or _whom_ are you smiling about?”

“Pushing into other’s personal affairs, how very un-you.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“Sherlock!” She threw a small pillow at him. “I will simply have to assume whom you are talking with.”

“I have a pretty good assumption.” John added as he walked into the room with a cup of warm milk for Mary.

“Do you two ever stay out of my life?” Sherlock groaned at them.

“Do you ever stay out of ours?” Mary asked, winking at him. “John.” She reached her hand out for help up. “Not that I don’t just _love_ spending time with you, Sherlock, but I need to change into something far more comfortable.” She took her milk back from John and started to waddled her way to the bedroom. “Thank you for coming for dinner, even if you didn’t eat.”

“On a case.” He replied.

John sat down in the chair Mary had just vacated and waited till she had closed the bedroom door.

“It’s Molly isn’t it?”

“What?” Sherlock scrunched his face up at him.

“Molly, she was the one you were texting earlier, wasn’t she? And when you came back from Bart’s yesterday, you were practically singing.”

“Oh John, do be serious.” Sherlock stood, tired of the conversation.

“ _Maybe_ not singing, but you were smiling.” He was leaning forward in his chair, excited to have figured it out.

“People smile for all kinds of reason John.” He slipped on his coat and made for the door.

“Where is your scarf?” John wondered before Sherlock could make his escape.

“It’s not truly cold enough yet for a scarf, is it?” Sherlock practically mocked.

“Oh well, good thing it’s getting to be late autumn then, isn’t it?” He stood from his chair and walked over to the open door where Sherlock stood.

“And why would that be?” Sherlock sighed as he stepped outside.

“Because Molly is very fond of your scarf.” John winked as he closed the door in Sherlock’s face.


	4. Molly's Rules

“Are you fond of my scarf?” Sherlock asked as Molly opened the door for him. He didn’t wait for her reply before entering her flat.

“Your scarf?” She asked as she closed her door and locked it. “What do you mean, am I fond of it?”

“John said you were fond of it.” Sherlock sat down in what had been her seat and patted the spot next to him. She raised her eyebrow at him, but sat down anyways.

“Do you always believe what people tell you?” She nudged him with her elbow.

“So you aren’t fond of it?” He mused over it as he took her hand in his and drew patterns on her palm. “Okay. I will have to inform John that he was wrong.”

“Well, no.” She giggled at him. “I am.”

He stopped drawing and stared at her, unable to understand the situation. Why did she have to be so cryptic sometimes? She was the only one who was able to do so to him.

“John wasn’t wrong; I do like how your scarf looks.” Sherlock nodded at her words and turned his attention back to her palm.

His light touch was in complete contrast from yesterday’s needy encounter that Molly had to remind herself that it was the same man. Seeing Sherlock’s different sides was something that Molly was going to have to get used to.

She could tell he was thinking over something and giggled a bit. He gave her a sideways look.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…isn’t this supposed to be where you come to not think?” She asked as she snuggled into the couch.

“Yes, but I was simply trying to make this arrangement more enjoyable for you.” He pursed his lips at her. She shook her head at him.

“Do you honestly think I don’t enjoy this?” Sherlock didn’t answer her. “I enjoy this very much…probably more than I should.” She added, mumbling.

* * *

 

“I thought you might want to see this.” Lestrade held up the tape for Sherlock and John to step under. “Has the same tattoo you found last week.”

Sherlock only hummed in response and squatted down to study the body. He only half listened to John and Lestrade’s conversation.

“Has he discovered the origin of the tattoo yet?”

“No.”

“No?” Lestrade shook his head in disbelief. “It’s been a week since we discovered the first two bodies!” Lestrade was taken back.

“Oh I know.”

“Shouldn’t he be wearing at least five patches at this point?”

“He does seem rather calm about the whole thing.” John frowned at the detective. “I am not sure what to make of it…except that our Miss Hooper has something to do with it.”

Lestrade made a loud noise at the back of his throat.

“Hooper? Molly Hooper?”

“Oh yes!” John gave a smug smile.

Sherlock turned his head toward the two and frowned deeply.

“If you two are quite done with whatever foolish conversation you are having,” The two rolled their eyes at him. “This is a fake.” Sherlock said standing up.

“A fake? Can’t be!” Lestrade practically jumped around the crime scene.

“It can be.” Sherlock said ducking back under the tape.

“But how?” John furrowed his borrow.

“The question is not how, but why.” Sherlock made his way back to the main street.

* * *

 

_Come over. – Sherlock_

_Now? – Molly_

_Yes. – Sherlock_

_Okay. – Molly_

“You could at least ask.” Molly said as she shut the door to his flat.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Sherlock smirked as he set down the newspaper. She simply shook her head at him as she hung up her coat and slipped out of her shoes.

She stood facing him, avoiding eye contact while she fiddled with her hands. She wore an oversized grey sweater with her hair fanned out over her shoulders. Sherlock had the urge to make the three strides across the room and rake his hands through her hair, eliciting the moan he had grown so found of hearing.

“Sherlock.” Molly’s voice broke him out of his trance.

“Mhm?” He asked clearing his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“You said you had no rules.” She pushed her hair behind her ear.

“Correct.” He nodded. She opened her mouth, but soon closed it again and moved to John’s chair, folding her legs up under her. “Molly, please do spit it out.” He said in as endearing a voice as he could.

“I have two rules.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap and sat up straight. “One, either one of us can stop this whenever we need to.” He nodded in agreement. “Two…you…I…we don’t…” she waved her hand out in front of her.

“Sex.” He said simply and enjoyed as the red spread on Molly’s cheeks. “You don’t want to have sex with me.”

“I do!” She shouted and held up her hands. Sherlock let his smile spread across his face. “That’s not what I meant.” She dropped her hands and groaned.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he stood up and walked to her. She scrunched up her face thinking and took his hand when he held it out to her. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He guided her to the couch and continued to hold her hand. She droped her gaze to the floor again.

“Rule two, if sex is to be included in this arrangement, we need to talk about it. We need to talk about the boundaries, about the where and when, about the protection, and about…” She lifted her eyes to his again. “What it means for us.” 

Sherlock swallowed hard as her words sunk it. Sex. What it would mean. What would it mean? _What would it mean?_

“Okay.” He said as he squeezed her hand.

“Okay…what?” She asked as she turned toward him, pulling her leg up on the couch.

“We will talk when we need to talk.” He started to lean in into her.

“So you see us needed to talk about this is the future?” She raised an eyebrow at him, stopping his movements.

“No.” Molly frowned deeply. “Yes.” She gave him a smile. “I don’t know.” She laughed at him.

“Why don’t we just agree on the rules and move on for now?” She brushed a curl out of his eyes.

“Thank you.” He kissed her in relief.


	5. The slow walk downhill

_7? – Sherlock_

_My flat or yours? – Molly_

_Yours. – Sherlock_

_Donovan discovered the origin of the tattoo. – Lestrade_

_Sherlock, did you get my message? – Lestrade_

_SHERLOCK? – Lestrade_

_Yes. – SH_

“What are you frowning at?” John asked as they rode the lift to the lab. Sherlock looked at him for a moment before pocketing his mobile.

“Nothing.”

“So you and Molly have been spending a lot of time together.” John said as he crossed his arms. Sherlock merely cleared his throat and stepped out of the lift. “Should I tell Mary to invite you two for dinner?”

Sherlock walked through the lab door and let it hit John in the face.

“Thank you.” John said through clenched teeth as Sherlock tossed his coat across the lab table.

He unbuttoned his jacket as he sat down at the microscope and reached for a box of slides that had _Sherlock_ written on it in Molly’s hand.

“You know, if you are going to treat her like your girlfriend, then you should act like she is your girlfriend.” John sat down and started working on writing up the last case on his phone.

“I am unsure of what you are referring to.” He said as he adjusted the scope. John sighed and let silence settle between them.

Sherlock’s head shot up as the door opened. His eyes lit up and John could tell he was controlling a smile as Molly walked through the door.

“I see you got the slides I left for you.” She smiled and dropped a stack of files on the table.

“Yes, thank you.” He nodded and finally smiled back.

“Do either of you need anything? I have to go grab another stack of files.” Sherlock asked for a coffee before Molly disappeared out of the lab again.

“Be careful Sherlock, otherwise your face will get stuck like that.” John snickered and Sherlock frowned at him.

“What are you babbling about?” John looked up at Sherlock’s words.

“Your face might just get used to a smile yet.” He glared at John and went back to his slides. “Courtship suits you.”

Sherlock clenched his fists and flattened them on the counter.

“We are not dating.” John just shrugged at his words and waited for Molly to come back.

This time she was accompanied by a lab assistant who was chatting happily about going to the pub. Molly quietly handed Sherlock the cup of coffee with a small smile which he didn’t return.

“Good morning Dr. Watson.” The lab assistant said as he set down more files for Molly.

“Jimmy.” John nodded to the younger man.

“Molly, what do you say to joining us tonight?” Jimmy asked as he stood by the door.

“Oh…umm.” Molly looked quickly between Sherlock and Jimmy.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows as Molly tried to let him down nicely. John smirked and caught Sherlock’s eye, he frowned back.

“Molly, you should go.” Sherlock blurted out. She looked at him, slightly stunned. Only twenty minutes ago had they made plans for the evening – Sherlock himself initiating the plans.

“Oh, but I had – ”Molly started.

“You would have fun.” He said shortly. Her face fell, but she recovered with a smile and agreed to join Jimmy and his friends for a drink after work.

* * *

 

Sherlock lay in bed on his back, with his legs stretched out straight, staring at the ceiling. He was still as a corpse as the clock ticked loudly over his head.

He lunged at the bedside table when his mobile pinged, but only threw it back down when he saw it was a text from John.

“Stupid.” He muttered to himself. “So stupid.” He could have spent the evening with Molly. She would have made him tea and put out the little biscuits that she makes. He would have complained about her choice in movie, but in the end it wouldn’t have mattered because they wouldn’t end up watching it anyways.

He didn’t like it when his hands were still and would have run them through Molly’s long hair. Once he had detangled every strand he would have moved on to her shoulders, releasing the tension – Molly simply leaning into his touch. He would have –

“Fool.” He reprimanded himself for letting his mind wander to senseless things. He stood up and straightened his suit jacket. “I have things to do.” He grabbed his coat and fled down the stairs.

* * *

 

“File.” Sherlock shoved his hand in Lestrade’s face.

“I see you did get my text.” Lestrade said with a sigh, ignoring Sherlock’s request, and returned to his paperwork.

“I responded, did I not?” Lestrade grunted in response. “File.”

“You are not getting the file.” He said closing the one he was currently working on. Sherlock blinked down at him for a moment and then shook his hand again.

“I need that file.” Sherlock said through clenched teeth. Lestrade rubbed his brow, wanting to go home and not deal with the consulting detective. He started down at the desk and slowly brought his head up to look at Sherlock.

“Oh.” Lestrade smiled. “Oh, I get it.” Sherlock squinted at him. “Miss Hooper is out for the night and you need something to occupy your mind.”

“File.” He practically growled. “Please.” He added, still just as vile.

Lestrade studied him for a minute before shrugging and pulling the file out of his desk.

“Here.” He stood up and handed Sherlock the file. “We have all been there.” He said as he pulled on his coat and ushered Sherlock out of his office.

“Been where?”

“In love.”

* * *

 

Sherlock sat in the middle of the living room floor pouring over the pages of the file again and again. The living room was covered with articles from the internet that he had printed off and the one wall was again covered in pictures, string, and tape.

He was completely consumed by his thought process that he didn’t notice Molly until she was standing next to him, her calf settled against his arm.

“Four days.”

He looked up at her. She didn’t sound mad but Sherlock could tell she was upset.

“Have you been locked away in here for four days?”

He rubbed the back of his head and looked at his watch. He had, remembering that Mrs. Hudson had indeed been in and out four times with tea and biscuits.

“Yes.” He heard her sigh and looked back up to see her purse her lips, thinking about what to say next.

“Get up. Take a shower. I will organize this mess…and then maybe we can get somewhere with this case.”

He stood and smiled at her. He leaned over to kiss her cheek, but she stopped him as she wrinkled her nose.

“You need a looong soak.” She stepped back from him. “Go.” She shooed him away.  


	6. When Sherlock realizes he is being naïve (and doesn’t do anything about it)

Molly did clean up the living room – so much so that when Sherlock was done with his shower he was afraid she had discarded important documents (“The receipt from the lunch you and Mycroft had two months ago was not _important_ , Sherlock!”).

She had tried to convince him that sitting in chairs and using the desk was the more _appropriate_ way of continuing their research, but he had somehow migrated them back to the floor and spread out just as much as before (earning him a glare every time he threw a piece of paper). 

Molly stretched her arms above her head, yawning and Sherlock couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to her bare midriff. 

“Well, I think we have made a significant amount of head way.” She gave him a sleepy smile. “But, I really should be headed home.” She stood up and stretched again, making Sherlock wonder if she was doing so just to get back at him for canceling their plans.

“You don’t have to work tomorrow.” He said keeping his eyes on the newspaper clipping in his hand.

“True, but I, unlike you, do enjoy eating every day.” She smirked at him and grabbed her coat.

He sighed heavily, eliciting a frown from her. He had spent four days away from her and his mind was in overdrive thinking about the case – he wasn’t going to let her leave him in such a state.

He started piling up the papers in the same way Molly had before which caused her to stop.

“What are you doing?” She only had her coat half way up her arms.

“Order take-away.” He said as he piled the papers on the desk.

“Sherlock Holmes, I am not your maid.” Molly dropped her coat and folded her arms across her chest.

“I know.” He smirked. “I thought I would let you choose what we are having for dinner.” Molly shook her head at him but smiled.

* * *

“Sherlock!” John shouted as he burst through the door. He stopped short when he saw Sherlock and Molly sitting on the floor, Molly in Sherlock’s clothes. “Oh.”

“Morning John.” Sherlock nodded in response to the abrupt interruption.

“Hi.” Molly gave him a small smile as she started stacking the papers on the floor.

“If I am interrupting something I can just go.” John stumbled over his feet as he turned in a small circle.

“You’re not interrupting!” Sherlock repressed a smile as Molly’s face turned red. “I need to get going anyways. I have…things to do.” Molly stood up and pilled the papers back on the desk.

“Okay.” John said uneasily as he went to take a seat in his old chair. “Any leads?” He motioned to the piles of paper as Molly slipped on her shoes.

“Some.” Sherlock shrugged it off as he sat in his chair.

“Sherlock, I will get these back to you soon.” Molly smiled as she pulled her coat on. “I’ll…talk to you later.” She gave a little wave and disappeared out the door.

“Soooo…” John watched as Sherlock stared at the closed door. “Was she wearing your clothes?”

“John.” Sherlock’s tone was warning.

“What happened last night?” He pressed on. Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed.

“She helped me with the case.”

“And that required a change of clothes?” John laughed which earned him a piercing look from Sherlock. “Fine, don’t talk about it.”

* * *

 

_Your place. Nine o’clock. – Sherlock_

_My place? – Sherlock_

_Molly? – Sherlock_

* * *

 

“Here.” Sherlock grumbled as he dropped a small pile of papers on Lestrade’s desk.

“And these are?” He picked them up with a grimace.

“The leads you need to look into.” He didn’t wait for a response before turning and disappearing out of his office.

“Thank you…I think!” Lestrade’s voice followed Sherlock down the hall.

* * *

 

Sherlock slipped into the lab and closed the door quietly, locking it behind him.

“And what do you have planned that the door needs to be locked?” Molly asked as she changed out a slide in the microscope.

“Force of habit.” He said as he unlocked the door, watching Molly’s shoulders fall in small disappointment. “Umm, Molly?”

“Mhm?” She hummed in response as she took notes on her file.

“Is your mobile working?”

“Of course.”  She sat up straight realizing what he was getting at. “Sherlock, I can’t be available to you all the time – I have other things going on in my life.” She said turning to him.

“I never expected you to be on call twenty-four-seven.” He leaned over pulling the microscope to himself.

“I didn’t realize I _was_ on call.” She rolled her eyes taking the microscope back.

“That’s an irregular –”

“I know.” She smiled as she wrote it down. “Did you actually need something, Sherlock, or did you just come here to interrogate me?”

“I’m not interrogating you.”  He said sitting down next to her. “I dropped off the leads to Lestrade.”

“Did he think any were worth following?” She closed the file and set it with the other finished ones. Sherlock shrugged in response. “Just ask me the question you came here to ask?” He frowned at her.

“I have no question – ”

“I was on a blind date.” Sherlock snapped his mouth shut at her words. “Well, it was really more of a favor for a friend – drinks with a friend of a friend.” Sherlock stayed quiet. “We never made rules about…seeing other people.”

“I never made any rules.” He said evenly.

“Exactly......Are you okay with it?” She wouldn’t look him in the eye as she waited for his answer.

_Tell her no. Don’t be an idiot._

“Of course.”

* * *

 

“John told me about finding Molly in your flat. Early morning. In your clothes.” Mary wiggled her eye brows at Sherlock.

“Shouldn’t you be in labor right now?” He muttered as he checked his phone again.

“It is two days before my due date, but still, bed rest.” She patted the top of her comforter. “Why was Molly in your clothes?”

“She went down to grab the take away and fell in a puddle.” John laughed as he handed Mary a bowl of ice cream.  

“Molly tell you?” Sherlock asked drily.

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” John sat down next to Mary on their bed. “She also told me about her blind date.”

“And how, how are you taking that Sherlock?” Mary asked with mock sincerity.

“Just fine.”


	7. The aftermath of the fast run downhill that ended in a crash and burn

Chapter 7: The aftermath of the fast run downhill that ended in a crash and burn

_Case is wrapped. – Lestrade_

_Sherlock? – Lestrade_

_SHERLOCK! – Lestrade_

_Okay – Sherlock_

_Don’t you want to know which lead it was? – Lestrade_

_The Egyptian Circle – Sherlock_

_Yes – Lestrade_

He threw his mobile across the room and listened as the shattered pieces hit the floor. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath, and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair until he felt light headed from the lack of oxygen. He let his breath out steadily and stood adjusting his suit jacket.

“Mrs. Hudson!” He bellowed as he ran down the stairs. “I’m going out! If a – ”

“A client comes get their information.” She said calmly appearing in her doorway.

“Yes.” He nodded curtly and ran to the street to get a cab.

* * *

“Number.” Sherlock twirled his mobile between his fingers as he shoved it in John’s face.

“Baby. In my arms. Mobile. Out of face.” John said through clenched teeth.

“Give me that.” Mary said tiredly. Sherlock pivoted on his heels and dropped the mobile in Mary’s hand. “Should I even ask why you have a new phone?”

“Nope.” He popped his lips on the end of the word.

Mary rolled her eyes at him as he took off his coat. He draped it over an open chair and sat across from John.

“Okay.” Sherlock held out his arms. John furrowed his burrow at him. “Give me the spawn.”

“She does have a name.” John frowned. “Haley. Haley Watson. In fact you gave Mary the idea.”

“I know.” Sherlock kept his arms out with an expectant look. John sighed and got up, settling his new daughter into his best friend’s arms.

“I am pretty found of that spawn, so try not to drop her, okay?” Mary’s eyes slid closed as she talked.

Sherlock gently rocked the baby as if it was the most natural thing he had ever done in his life.

“Hold still a minute.” John instructed as he stood up.

“Why?”

“If I don’t get a picture of this Mary will shoot me next.” John grabbed his mobile and snapped the picture before Sherlock could object.

“If I believed in the social construct of beauty, I would say she was.” Sherlock said tracing over the little girl’s nose, lips, and eye lids. John snorted at his words.

There was a soft knock on the door and John stood to answer it.

“Molly.” John smiled warmly. “Come in.” John stepped aside letting Molly in.

“I just wanted to bring this buy and wish you…” Her words faded away as her eyes landed on Sherlock.  “Oh, you have company…and Mary is resting. I’ll – I’ll come back later.” Molly turned to leave but stopped abruptly, shoving a small gift into John’s hands. “Here. Congratulations.” She gave him a small kiss on the check and hurried out of the room.

“What the hell did you do to Molly Hooper?” John’s words felt like hot, liquid venom to Sherlock. He stayed silent, staring down at the small bundle in his arms. “Sherlock Holmes, what THE HELL, did you do to Molly Hooper!?”

“What’s wrong?” Mary sat up quickly.

Haley squirmed and started quietly fussing in Sherlock’s arms. He rocked her back and forth, shushing her.

“I don’t know!” John said softer than before. “But Molly was just here and Sherlock scared her off.”

“What the hell did you do to Molly Hooper?!” Mary punched Sherlock in the shoulder.

“I am holding your daughter!” Sherlock looked horrified as he checked over Haley to make sure she was okay.

“She’s safe in your arms…despite how idiotically those arms are being right now.” Mary shook her head in disbelief. “Sherlock, what happened?” He stood up and handed Haley to Mary.

“It’s not important.”

* * *

Sherlock ruffled his hair before opening the morgue door – he needed all the help he could get – and walked slowly, sheepishly in.

“When I’m done with this I will get you the report.” Molly kept her back to Sherlock.

“Molly…”

She stopped working, hunched over the body. She straightened up and turned to him.

“I thought you were someone else.” She barely whispered. Sherlock took a step towards her and she inhaled sharply, stopping him in his tracks. “I have – have.” She pursed her lips, just breathing for a moment. “The body Lestrade wanted you to look at is over there.” She pointed behind him and went back to the body she had been working on.

“I know that – ”

“Sherlock.” She stood up straight again, but kept herself facing away from him. “You said what you said and I don’t think there is anything else you need to say.” He watched as she started to work, but stopped once again. “I think it will be best if we keep this professional from now on.”

* * *

“I talked to Molly today.” Mary frowned as she shifted a fussing Haley in her arms.

“I talked to Sherlock.” John sat down next to her on the couch. “He didn’t talk back.”

“The only thing Molly would say was that she and Sherlock’s arrangement was over and that their relationship would only be professional from now on.” John blinked at her and snorted. Haley whimpered in Mary’s arms.

“You don’t really believe her do you?” John asked as he took Haley and started to rock her.

“Yes.” John raised his eyebrow at her. “I’m serious John. Molly looked really upset. I am not sure Sherlock will be able to fix this.”

* * *

“Hurry up John!” Sherlock barked as he waited by the morgue doors.

“You know, if you hadn’t messed up you wouldn’t need me to go to the morgue.” John huffed as he walked toward Sherlock who gave him a pointed look. “You could just apologize for – ”

“I told you, I tried.” Sherlock replied flatly.  

John shook his head and flung open the doors. Molly looked up and gave him a pleasant smile which disappeared as soon as she saw Sherlock.

“Hi John. Sherlock, it’s the last one in the corner.” Molly turned back to John. “How are Mary and Haley?”

“Good. I think.” He yawned. “Sleep deprivation.” He leaned on the table in front of him. “How long till she sleeps through the night?” Molly gave him a small smile and patted his hand.

“It’s only been a month…you will sleep again.” He sighed at her words, not believing them.

“Molly, can you send me a copy of the autopsy report when you are done?” Sherlock avoided eye contact.

“I will be sending a copy of my report to Lestrade when I am through. If you want to see it you can contact him.” She was polite, which made Sherlock want to claw his eyes out.

“I was really – ”

“We really need to keep this professional.” 


	8. The fast run downhill that ended in a crash...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and chapter nine are what happened between chapters six and seven.

“ _Of course_.”He muttered to himself as he lay face down in bed. Staring at the ceiling had been too boring for him and he rather enjoyed the star bursts that appeared behind his eyelids when he pressed his face into the pillow. “ _Of course._ ” He said again.

Ten minutes passed and had anyone else been in the flat they would have assumed Sherlock Holmes had fallen asleep with his face in a pillow. Granted they would have been sadly mistaken and had the shit scared out of them as an animalistic noise came roaring out of Sherlock as he sprang from the bed and stomped to the shower.  

Not twenty minutes later he was in the back of a cab on his way to Bart’s.

There were three other people in the lift when he got on – it took 45 seconds of deductions to secure a private ride.

 “Oh, hi!” Her smile was radiant and stopped him dead in his tracks just inside her office. “On a new case?”

“Nothing above a three.” He unbuttoned his coat and sat down, pulling his scarf off. He noticed how her eyes lingered on the blue material. “Yes, it was chilly enough today to wear it.” He said pocketing it.

“Yes.” She nodded in agreement. “If you’re not on a case and you’re here begging for extra body parts, I am afraid to tell you, we are a little short on all things made up of deceased humans.” Sherlock stood up and closed her office door.

“Not here for body parts…not of the deceased variety anyway.” He turned the lock and watched as Molly’s eyes grew dark with want.

“Why Sherlock Holmes, if it hasn’t been weeks since we acted like hormone crazed teenagers…in my office anyways.” She practically purred at him as he pulled her to her feet to only set her on her desk.

“Far too long.” He mumbled as he nipped at her neck and pulled off her lab coat.

As soon as her arms were free she laced one hand through his hair and the other held securely to his neck, making sure his lips didn’t leave her skin.

“Just ignore it.” Sherlock said as Molly’s mobile vibrated on the desk next to her.

She nodded in agreement and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Her mobile vibrated again, this time drawing Molly’s attention to its face. She reached over and locked the screen again.

He reached up and pulled the clip out of her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders. The scent of her shampoo filled the room and if only for a moment, it was intoxicating.

Her mobile lit up again and Sherlock sighed, stepping back and sitting down in her chair. Molly picked up her mobile and frowned at the screen, looking down at Sherlock.

“What?” He sounded bored.

“Did you want to meet up tonight?” She asked tensely. 

“I can see you have another offer.” He sneered at her mobile.

“Yes, but if you were – ”

“Go Molly. You’ll have a better time.” He stood and dismissed himself from her office.

“Sherlock.” Her voice drifted out the open door.

“A _much_ better time.”

* * *

“John!” He startled as something hit him in the shoulder.

“Did you…did you just throw a pillow at me?” He blinked several times at Sherlock trying to dissipate the sleepiness.

“I was talking over the new case and you feel asleep.” Sherlock popped his lips.

“Since when do you need an audience to work over a case?” John Grabbed the pillow and hugged it to himself.

“Since – ” Sherlock sighed, not finishing his sentence. “Shut up John.”

“Why are you here anyways?” John stretched his legs out in front of himself. “Shouldn’t you be with Molly?”

“Been busy the last few days.” Sherlock shrugged.

“You’ve been burning fingers in my kitchen for the last three days!” John gave an exasperated sigh to which Sherlock only shrugged. “Did Molly go out again?” He asked suddenly.

Sherlock stared at him with a blank expression. He blinked and stood up.

“Good-night John.” He slipped on his coat and barely let John wish him a good evening before shutting the front door.

* * *

 

He could have easily let himself in. And he was half temped to, until he saw the cab pull up. He watched as Molly got out of the cab, soon followed by a rather tall man, even in Sherlock’s opinion. The man positioned himself so Molly was between him and the cab and to Sherlock’s dismay, it didn’t seem to bug her.

He moved down the steps, staying in the shadows, so he could over hear their conversation.

“I think I would be okay with that.” Molly giggled and looked away from her date – her eyes falling on Sherlock in surprise.

“Okay then, I will just pay – ”

“Actually, I’m sorry. I…I forgot I promised a friend of mine they could sleep on my couch while their roommate’s boyfriend was in town. She will be getting off work soon.”

“Okay.” Sherlock could hear the disappointment in his voice. “Goodnight Molly.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and got back in the cab.

Molly watched as the cab turned the corner and rounded on Sherlock with a death glare.

“Sherlock Holmes. What the hell are you doing here?” She stomped past him and up the stairs, unlocking her front door.

“You weren’t answering my messages.” He stated simply, following her inside.

“Did you ever think I was busy and couldn’t respond?” She stopped in the middle of her living room, hands on hips. He simply shrugged, hung up his coat, and sat down on the couch.

“Join me?” He asked darkly.

“Did you ever think I might have had other _plans_ for tonight?” She huffed away from him down the hall to her bedroom.

“Other _plans_?” He followed after her and leaned in the doorway. “Like shagging that…dentist?”

“His name is Ben and yes, a good shag would have been a nice way to end my week!” She threw her purse on her bed.

“Another meaningless one night stand?!” Sherlock scoffed.

“Well going hot and heavy with you during our snogging sessions isn’t exactly calming for me!” She said as she struggled out of her coat and threw it on the ground. “So yes, a meaningless one night stand was exactly what I was looking for! Plus you told me it was fine!”

“Do I not have all the qualifications of a suitable bed partner?”

Molly’s shoulders fell as she looked at Sherlock.

“Sherlock…”

He closed the space between them and pulled Molly against him, swallowing the small squeak that she made.

“I think that maybe we – ”Molly spoke between kisses. Sherlock captured her lips again and laid her on the bed. He straddled her hips, keeping his weight on his knees, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt – the words died on Molly’s lips.

* * *

 

_What are you doing? You’re just going to hurt her. You don’t have nice things. Why do you think you can have her? You’re going to run now. That’s what you always do. Run, run, run – that’s what Sherlock Holmes does._

_This is worse than anything you have ever done._

“You’ve really managed to fuck up this time.” He whispered to himself as Molly slept beside him.


	9. ...and burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, chapters 8 and 9 cover the time between chapters 6 and 7.

Sherlock rolled over eyeing the clock, it was just after one and his mind wouldn't shut off. _You have made it worse for yourself._ He sat up slowly doing his best to not wake Molly. He started to pull on his pants when he heard her begin to stir.

“Sherlock?” He felt her hand on the small of his back; it was like having a hot coal pushed into his skin.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He stood up and pulled his pants and trousers on.

“I think I could help you with that.” Molly grabbed his hand and tried to pull him back to bed, but he just stood there looking at her. “I thought you came here for me to help you with that?” She sat up, pulling the sheet around her. He didn’t answer her, sitting back down on the bed and facing away from her. “You worried about how things will change now?”

“With what?” _Shut up!_ He pulled his shirt on and buttoned it up.

“Us…” The word faded away on her lips. “This…this was supposed to be my one night stand.” She whispered.

_Regain control._

“I was returning the favor.” _Not regaining control!_

“The favor?”

“You make it quiet for me. I thought I could do the same for you.” He turned and looked at her over his shoulder. “Molly?”

“Get out.” She barely whispered.

Sherlock didn’t move.

“I said get out.” She said choking back a sob. “You…you just get out!”

“You didn’t stop me.” Was his only defense.

“The rules were we would talk about it if you wanted to change the arrangement!” Tears were running down her face and Sherlock stopped himself from reaching out and wiping them away.

_This is your fault._

“You didn’t say anything.” He said coldly as he stood up.

“And I should have.” She wrapped the sheet tightly around her body and slipped out of her bed. “You knew how I felt about you.” She stood inches from Sherlock, radiating with anger. He had never seen her stand so tall before. “You took advantage of that.” He swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. _I did._

“I didn’t see it that way.” She shook her head at him. “I will go.” He reluctantly turned his back on her and walked to the living room.

“I loved you Sherlock. You knew that…that’s why you came to me in the first place.” He kept his back to her, unable to look her in the face. _I know._

“I came because I needed your help.” He grabbed hold of the door handle.

“I hope it was worth it, Sherlock. You’re the one who matters the most after all.”

“I meant that.” He whispered to the door, but he knew she heard him.

“Really?” She snapped back. “Because it seems that the only person that matters to Sherlock Holmes, is you!”

He spun on his heels and gripped her shoulders, causing her to look him in the eye.

“I meant every word I said that night I came to you. And I meant every word I said to you in that hallway.” He slid his hands up and down her shoulders a few times. “I meant it.” He said desperately.

_Just do it._

He leaned into her, wanting to kiss her, wanting to feel her again. But it was Molly who stood on tiptoes, pressing her mouth to his.

When she pulled back, the eyes looking back at him were no longer angry, they were broken.

“Get out.” She said again, turning her back on him.

* * *

 

He had come back three hours later simply letting himself in this time. He stood in the doorway to her bedroom watching her sleep. He could tell she had crawled into bed with the sheet still wrapped around her and cried until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.

He stood watching her until his ache to touch her was too much. He went back to the living room to wait until she woke.

* * *

 

He was stiff when he woke, keeping his eyes shut. He listened to the quietness of the room, realizing that he was not the only one. He opened his eyes to be met with the sight of a very red eyed Molly Hooper. She was sitting in the chair across from him as he lay on the couch. She sat on the edge, elbows on her knees, and head in her hands.  

He sat up slowly, adjusting his shirt.

“Why would you even come back?”

“I wanted to salvage this.” He said in a very business-like tone.

“Salvage what, Sherlock?” She sounded tired as she leaned back in the chair.

He opened his mouth but shut it again – he knew he only had one chance to fix it.

“Us.”

“There is no us.” There was no venom in her words anymore; she simply sounded exhausted.

“Our arrangement – I would like to fix it.” She shook her head at his words with closed eyes.

“There is no fixing it Sherlock.” She pulled her legs up into the chair. “When you proceeded to rip the clothes off of me, I thought it was because the feelings I had were finally being returned.” He shifted uncomfortable under her glare. “That is why I didn’t stop you. But I should have known. I should have known you would ignore my rules and my feelings. I should have stopped you…I should have known.”

Sherlock stayed silent, watching Molly for a long time.

_Just....you’ll never be better._

“We will set down concrete rules that we both agree on. There will be lines that I won’t cross. The arrangement can be more formal.” It was like drawing up a contract.

Molly didn’t look at him, but continued to stare at the books on her shelf.  

“Do you love me?” She finally asked.

_Yes. Always._

_…You won’t say it. You never will. You run from it._

_You run from it every time._

“Molly,”

“Sherlock, it’s a simple yes or no answer at this point.” She finally turned her gaze toward him.

_She cares about you. You are going to break her heart._

_And yours._

“I can’t answer you.”

“Then I have to get ready for work.” She stood up and started walking to the bathroom. “I assume you can show yourself out.”   


	10. Where he thought it was the end

John stood in the doorway to Sherlock’s flat blinking. He had never seen him in such a mess – not even when he pulled him out of the drug house.

“Sherlock, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sherlock’s head bobbed in exhaustion and snapped back up at John’s words.

He shook his head and waved his hand, dismissing John and his question.

“How long has it been since you slept?”

“Three – Four days…maybe five.” He kept typing away on his computer, trying to ignore his best friend.

“Five days!” John stepped into the living room and slammed the door behind him. “Sherlock you can’t go that long without sleep!”

“Obviously…I can.” His head nodded again before he finished the sentence.

“Obviously you can’t.” John snapped the laptop closed, pinching Sherlock’s sluggish fingers in it.

“Ouch!” He rubbed his hands as he glared at John, his eyelids growing heavy the second his mind didn’t have details to focus on.

“Why haven’t you slept?” John sighed and started picking up the living room.

“Busy.” Sleep deprived Sherlock was more helpful than drunk Sherlock – John watched in amazement as he got up from the couch and started helping clean the living room.

“Sherlock?”

“Mhmm?” He replied as he scurried around the living room erratically, stumbling over his long legs.

“What happened with Molly?”

“What I always do.” Sherlock slurred his words together. “I like her – No. No John! I love her.” He waved a stack of newspapers in John’s face. “I gave in. Made her think I used her. Pushed her away.”

“Did you use her?” John asked as he grabbed Sherlock’s arm and started pulling him toward his room.

“Yes…but no…” Sherlock got his feet twisted around each other and feel into bed as John lost his grip on him. John stood shaking his head as Sherlock lay with his face stuffed into the sheets.

“What does that mean?” He asked as he helped Sherlock flip over and tried pulling a blanket over him – it was like trying to tuck in a giant toddler.

Sherlock stared at John with a look he had never seen before – Sherlock was sad. Truly, one hundred percent sad and full of regret.

“I wanted her – I just can’t.” Sherlock sighed and finally stopped moving, allowing John to cover him.

“Sherlock, if you – ” Sherlock’s hand flew up and hit John in the face stopping the words.

“Sleep.” He said in his usual tone.  

“You are an irritating man.”

* * *

 

Sherlock heard John’s feet on the steps and sighed; he was not in the mood to deal with him after the last time John had stopped by.

“Hello John.” He said as he stood, buttoning his jacket.

“You look better than the last time I saw you.” He said stopping at the top of the stairs. “Although, sleep usually does help.”

Sherlock repressed the urge to roll his eyes at John. 

John rocked on his feet in the doorway watching Sherlock walk to the kitchen.

“Okay…” He stepped inside the flat and closed the door. “Sherlock, we need to – ”

“Sorry John, I was just on my way out.”

"It's nine in the evening." 

"Yes."  

* * *

 

Sherlock sighed as he sat down in the lab. It had been weeks since he had been there and he had missed it.  

 

He also missed her. God did he miss her. Her smell and the way her lips felt against his, how her hair swayed beautifully as she walked, her hands in his hair – _oh her hands!_  

 

He had worked for the good part of three hours with minimal interruptions – the best part of coming after dark to the hospital. Also, a good way of avoiding a certain pathologist.  

 

He listened as soft footsteps made their way down the hall - those of a tired hospital employee, probably the overnight guy who did less than half as good a job as Molly. He pressed his lips together as the steps got closer to the lab. 

 

"I'll be done soon." He said in exasperation when the footsteps stalled in the doorway. 

 

"It's fine." He sat up straight at her quiet voice - how could such a soft voice be so big to him? 

 

He turned and looked at her. She looked tired but he could tell it was only from the wear of the shift she was working – not the same reason he constantly looked awful. 

 

He desperately wanted to reach out and tuck the stray piece of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. He moved to stand, but Molly looked down and tucked the strand of hair away, clearing her throat. 

 

"Overnight shift?" He finally asked. 

 

"Yes. I made the change a few weeks ago…I didn't think I would see you." She admitted. 

 

"I didn't think I would see you." He said back to her. "Molly, I - " 

 

"You can stay as long as you need." She gave a small nod and started to back out of the lab. 

 

"I'm done." He stood and gathered the items he had been using, taking care of them. He caught Molly's surprised expression out of the corner of his eye.  

 

She stayed in the doorway and seemed glued to the floor even as Sherlock walked toward her. Their hands brushed as he passed and he clenched his hands into fists, pushing himself forward. 

 

"Molly." He stopped and turned back to her. "Go back to mornings." 

 

* * *

 

 

"I told her to go back to mornings." Sherlock didn't move from his chair.  

 

"I'm guessing you're referring to Molly." John rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not sure why her going back to mornings means you can't go to the morgue." 

 

"I-" Sherlock clamped his mouth shut and stood up. "Let's go." 

 

* * *

 

"Sherlock, we're supposed to be in the morgue, not the lab." John walked slowly back and forth behind Sherlock who was perched on the stool. 

 

 _Molly goes to lunch in ten minutes._  

 

"This is mad!" He finally shouted in frustration, stopping his pacing. Sherlock looked up from the microscope, frowning at him. "For the love of God just tell me what happened with Molly." 

 

"I love her." He said turning back to his experiment. 

 

"Then I don't understand the problem - you love her and she loves you. Can't you stop being a complete asshole and go get her back?" 

 

"No, in fact John, I can't." He stood and started tracing the same path John had been only moments ago. "Molly is a good person - the best person I know. And I don't…" 

 

 _Know how to be someone who deserves her._  

 _I don't deserve Molly Hooper._  

 

"I don't want a relationship." He stopped moving and crossed his arms. 

 

"I'm going to use Mary's words right now because you're being an idiot." John crossed his arms mirroring Sherlock and gave him a piercing look. "You are in love with Molly Hooper and you want to be with her. So get your head on straight, buy that woman some new lab tech, and marry her!"  

 

 _I DON’T deserve her._  

 

"John," 

 

"Stop! Sherlock, you might be the most brilliant man I know, but when it come to love you are clueless - just love her! I don't believe for one second that you don't want a relationship with her. You are just - " 

 

"Of course I want a relationship with her!" He shouted at John. "She is the only one who makes it stop - makes it all stop!" John took a step back from Sherlock as his anger flooded the room. "Yes, John,  _I love her_! I'm IN love with her! But I can't – I won't – ruin her again!" 

 

"Look, "  

 

"No!" He took another step towards John, but inhaled deeply and stepped right back. He closed his eyes and released his breath. "I can't nor do I want to try to have a relationship with Molly Hooper." 

 

A loud sob from the other side of the lab door startled them both. They stood quietly for a moment before they heard the footsteps running away down the hall.  

 

John set his jaw and turned back to Sherlock.  

 

"Seems that the morgue is empty now."  


	11. But he was wrong as usual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here we are at the end! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me on this! It has been a long road for me! I love this fic and I am happy to have an ending:) I hope you enjoyed this!   
> Also, thank you to everyone reading, liking, and commenting! You lovelies are the best:D

_Interesting choice. You could have gone anywhere. Why here?_

_…?_

_Do you remember your last thought before you jumped?_

_No…._

_Yes you do…you remember. You know._

_….Molly._

_Molly Hooper, your dear pathologist was your last thought._

_And first thought. Always, always, always._

_Oh, and yes, John was there, but in the background with Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, mixing with, well, I am flattered when I say this, my face and my blood swirling into the cracks. But Molly Hooper was the forefront._

_She always is._

_You’re not worth it for her._

_I never said I was!_

_Molly Hooper, the girl who broke the law for you – put her career on the line for you – and how do you repay her?_

_Sadness. Hurt. And….._

_Poor Sherl has so much regret!_

_Yes, regret._

_And over what? Miss Molly Hooper? You barely cared to give her a look before_

_She saw me. I underestimated her. She read me. And she always sees me._

_Oh! Does she though?_

_Oh, Sherl, I didn’t know you were an actor!_

_shut up_

_That night you slept with her –_

_Shut up._

_she must have been so clouded with love for you –_

_Shut up!_

_that she blinded her eyes to the front you -_

“SHUT UP!” He squeezed his eyes shut and gulped in air, trying to steady his breath.

He focused on Molly’s face and let everything else fade away.

* * *

 

The chill of the wind was finally getting too much for him. He opened his eyes and the sky was black. He stood up and regretted his choice to hide out on the roof of the hospital. He walked over to the edge and looked down.

Things looked different in the dark. The day had been so hectic yet calculated that his memories of the event shifted over time. There were nights like these were every detail stood out in vivid color and there were nights when it all blurred together into a gray ball. He certainly did prefer the gray ball.

“Sherlock?” He closed his eyes and let her voice wash over him, taking him back to the day she spent solving cases with him.

He stepped back and turned around.

She had her arms wrapped around her middle, trying to guard herself from the chill of the wind.

“I saw the cigarette pack holding the stairwell door open.”

“It locks.” He said walking toward her and picking his coat up off the ground. He stopped in front of her and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Yes.” She stared down at the coat that was far too big for her. “Sherlock, what are you doing up here?” He turned away from her and walked back to the edge.

“The cold helps my mind stop.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and flexed his fingers – _still working perfectly fine._

“It was snowing earlier…were you up here without your coat the whole time?” She sounded irritated. 

“Yes.” He looked back at her. “You’re irritated with that fact.” She inhaled deeply as she slipped her arms in the sleeves.

“Yes, I am.” She stomped over to him and slapped his face. He blinked slowly several times before rubbing the sore spot in his cheek. “You’re an idiot! A complete fool!”

“Molly – ”

“You can literally freeze your fingers! They won’t work!” She started stepping back and forth, tossing her hands in the air as the coat cuffs flapped back and forth against her wrists. “You need hands to play the violin you masochistic moron!” She was seething when she stopped yelling and her shoulders heaved up and down drastically.

He stayed silent, watching the wind blow her hair around her face. She looked up, eyes locking with his and then the sudden pressure of her lips was all he could think about.

 _Oh her lips!_ How long it had been since he had tasted her! He hungrily sucked on her bottom lip and ran his tongue over her teeth. She moaned into his mouth as he tugged on her hair.

She stopped kissing him as suddenly as she had started. She gapped at his chest in horror not looking him in the eye. The two of them still clung to each other, Sherlock staring down at her in desperation.

She tore herself away from him and disappeared through the door.

* * *

 

He stood rooted on the spot for some time. He had wished and wished for his brain to stop over thinking and over working and here was the time when he needed it most and it wouldn’t do a damn thing.

_STOP HER!_

He finally snapped out of it and stumbled forward calling her name, knowing she was already gone.

He headed for the stairwell and made sure the roof door shut behind him. When he got to the bottom of the small stairwell he kicked the cigarette pack away from the door scattering them across the hall. He looked down, intending to pick them up but stopped when he saw his discarded coat on the ground.

He picked it up – it was still warm and still smelled like her. He held the collar of the coat up to his nose and inhaled deeply, the scent of her shampoo filled his senses. Then it was gone. And it was cold. And it smelled only of him.

* * *

 

He had sprinted from the hospital, jumping in a cab, and barking Molly’s address to the cabbie. Upon arrival he threw his money in the front seat and jumped out only to stand at the bottom of the stairs that led to her flat.  

_Tell her. Tell her. Tell her._

_Run. Run! RUN!_

_Tell her! TELL HER!_

“SHUT UP!” He shouted, squeezing his eyes closed. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He muttered to himself over and over, pressing his fingertips to his temple.

He heard her hurried footsteps on the stairs and wasn’t surprised when her hand fell on his arm.

“Come on.” She said softly and led him into her flat. She maneuvered him to the couch and brought him tea. They sat quietly while sipping from their cups, her eyes never leaving his face.

“I heard you.” She sat down her cup and pulled her feet up on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest.

“I know.” He couldn’t look at her. “I’m sorry.” He sat his cup down too and turned to her. “A relationship with me is not something – ” She pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I mean I heard everything you said to John.” She moved her finger from his lips and cradled his face. “You didn’t ruin me. You just hurt me.” He pulled away from her hand.

“I took advantage of you.” As he talked she took his hand in hers.

“Yes.” She nodded. “But you have no clue how to do this.” She gave him a sad smile. “You don’t have to be the perfect to be the right one for me.”

Sherlock stayed quiet listening to their breathing. He has missed touching her, holding her hands, kissing her lips.

He used his free hand to run his thumb over her lips.

“I won’t be good at this.”

“I will.” She smirked at him.

“But Molly – ”

“Shut up Sherlock.” She shook her head at him and pressed her lips to his. He deepened the kiss and pulled her into his lap. She laced one hand through his hair and wrapped the other around his shoulders, securing him to her.

Sherlock pulled back suddenly, cradling her face in his hands gently.

“I love you.”

“I love you too…now, take me to bed, show me how much you love me, and be there when I wake up in the morning.”

“Okay.” He smiled as he stood up and carried her to the bedroom. 


End file.
